


Cry For Judas

by greyanon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Conspiracy, Corporate conspiracy, Cybernetics, F/M, Human/Android Relationship, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Peaceful Revolution, Possession, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyanon/pseuds/greyanon
Summary: "But I am just a Broken Machine...And I do things that I don't really mean..."In two years, nearly everything has changed. Connor has merely been doing everything he can to cope despite struggling with immense guilt and shame over his actions while he was controlled by CyberLife. As more change begins to rock his world with Hank's sudden retirement, he gains a new partner who affects him in ways he does not understand. A new case comes across his desk in light of several disappearances that stands to threaten the tentative peace between humans and androids. Will Connor and his new partner be able to stop it all in time, or are they just in too far over their heads?





	1. One

October 5th, 2040

10:05AM

“...And it is with a heavy heart that we say farewell and good-luck to our friend and brother as he goes forth in his future endeavors. We’re going to miss you Hank, and we all hope you have a fulfilling retirement.”

The room filled with polite applause as Hank accepted his placard from Captain Fowler, prompting Connor to join in as well from his place near the back of the room. It had been two years since the revolution, only a year had passed since official peace had been made between humanity and android kind. He could see it all around him, as fellow officers, both human and android, began to mill towards the front to congratulate his partner and wish him well. Connor felt the need to stay behind, preferring to observe from the safety of his corner. Be it lingering protocol or his own preference, he was never sure, but when it came to crowds he would rather fade away unnoticed. Hank called him the Wallflower King, at the time he had been unsure of the reference but after researching it he supposed it was appropriate given how he liked to spend gatherings.

At the thought of his friend, Connor glanced toward the podium once more, Hank sent him a pleading look of discomfort over the heads of their colleagues. No, actually, Hank appeared to be trying to mentally will him to somehow relieve him from his predicament. He felt his lips pull into a small smirk as he began to move forward with the intent of pulling his friend away, lest he do or say something they would both regret. Connor knew Hank only marginally liked most of those who were coming to wish him well, and there was a high likelihood the older man would crack under the platitudes of their peers. He was nearly to the podium when a hand grasped his elbow and gently pulled him to a halt.

“Let him suffer a bit more, it’s what these things are for.” A lilting voice spoke, letting go of his elbow only seconds before Connor began to feel any discomfort.

Glancing down, he observed a young woman in worn almost threadbare plain clothes, badge in prominent display in her hip. It seemed she had ignored the call for uniform dress, which even Hank had elected to wear, and was playfully smirking up at him. He had never seen her before, which was strange. He’d introduced himself to everyone on the regular roster for the department during his first employment under CyberLife, per protocol, or so he thought. Curiosity getting the better of him, he started a facial recognition scan. He tended to avoid immediate analysis these days when not for strictly professional reasons. Hank had informed him it was a bit unsettling for a person if you knew who they were prior to any introduction.

_Sergeant Emily Lohen: Narcotics division...Undercover assignment: 3 years and 5 months 6 days... reassignment order issued: transfer to Cyber Division…. Designated partner: Connor (RK800 313 248 317 -51)._

His eyes shot to hers in earnest when his scan was finished, it seemed he had unwittingly found his new partner. Her eyes were alight with mirth as she seemed to catch on to what he had been up to. Connor felt his chest tighten strangely in response. She was… intriguing, a faint scar ran through her right eyebrow curving down her cheekbone. Her copper colored hair cut short, sides shorn though longer on the top, styled carelessly, as if all she had done to it was roll out of bed. Most interesting of all, he detected several Thirium ports in her system, specifically in her right arm, scattering down into her right torso. Looking closer, he noticed her right eye even seemed to have an almost unnatural sheen about it, one he’d only recognized in fellow androids.

“You have several cybernetic implants, it seems to cover much of your right side to your torso. I’m assuming a catastrophic car accident.” Connor states curiously, head cocking to the side in confusion.

“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Connor right?” She laughs holding her for mentioned right arm out. Oh, she was trying to shake his hand. Connor responded in kind, gripping her hand firmly, while looking mildly sheepish.

“I am Connor, yes, my apologies if my response came off as abrupt, it was not my intention. I was curious.”

“I get it.” She smiles cutting him off from further explanation. He feels something stutter in his chest again. Perhaps he needed to go to The Clinic later, he felt strange. “Plus I’m sure it’s not every day you see someone needing these guys huh?”

“I have yet to encounter it before, the vast majority of injuries resulting in amputation or destruction of organic material is now commonly rectified by lab grown limbs. Cybernetics have not been widely used since the early 20’s, as upkeep is often arduous and expensive for the owner. I would be intrigued the know the motivation behind your decision.” Connor questioned looking at her with confusion written into his brow nearly missing the flash of discomfort in her eyes at his line of questioning. Perhaps this line of questioning was too personal...

“Just a special case I guess” She says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Feeling sheepish at overstepping a boundary once again, he cast his gaze down “I apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable Sergeant Lohen...”

“...Well maybe try letting her hand go kid, might help.” Hank’s gruff voice cut in, a hand clapping heavily unto Connor’s shoulder as he quickly dropped the Sergeant’s hand, his registry of common social norms seemed to not be functional as well it seemed.

“Lohen, what back alley did you crawl out of? You look like shit.” Hank laughed walking toward the Sergeant and pulling her into a quick hug.

“Oh, I just figured you'd appreciate the death warmed over look!.” She replied cheerily, pulling away from Hank to glance back towards Connor with a wink. “So looks like I’m stealing your partner from you.”

“Well I sure as hell won’t be here to complain, though it ain't like I won't be seeing his mug daily anyway.” Hank says with a slight growl, narrowing his eyes at Connor before lightly ruffling his hair. “ ‘sides I think you'll be a good babysitter, since he sure as hell needs one.”

“I resent that comment, I believe that I have been making progress in improving my self preservation protocols.” Connor cut in, slightly indignant. “Kid, you got shot twice last week, and lost your arm two weeks before that. You sure as shit ain’t careful, self preservation protocols my ass.” Hank grumbled walking off motioning for them to follow.

Sergeant Lohen was first to begin walking, leaving Connor to fall into pace with her as they worked toward the door that Hank had ducked out of. He was honestly surprised his friend had made it through this function as long as he had, even Connor had begun to found it lacking before he met Sergeant Lohen. Feeling a need to defend himself to his new partner, he cleared his throat before speaking quietly to the woman.

“Those were extraneous situations, and the mission that had been at hand would have been…” Connor paused, the wording feeling too mechanical even to his ears. “He’s exaggerating.” He smiled sheepishly as he held the door open for her. “I hope to make this transition seamless for the both of us. I can understand if you need time… to adjust, many in the department have had the time to become used to working closely with my kind in their new capacity but perhaps in your work in the field you have not ha-”

Sergeant Lohen lightly rested a hand on his shoulder instantly causing him to cease his rambling, surprising Connor, as she smiled gently at him. “I think we’ll be fine, I’m actually looking forward to working with you.”

“As am I, Sergeant.” He nodded earnestly in response.

“Emily, call me Emily, Connor.” She started walking past him through the doorway moving toward Hank who was rather impatiently waiting for them, tugging at parts of his dress uniform.

“Of course... Emily.” He said smilingly softly as he tested the name out on his lips, he liked the way it sounded.

“Are you two done?! I need to get out of this monkey suit and over to Jimmy’s for the real party.” Hank paused in his mad dash to his car with Connor and Emily obviously trailing far behind. “You wanna come Em?”

Shaking her head Emily declined, nodding back toward the station. “Raincheck? I gotta get Roth and Williams up to speed before I transfer.”

With a grunt and a shrug Hank got into his car motioning for Connor to follow. With a wave to his new partner he jogged toward the car, lest Hank leave him again, glancing over his shoulder one last time to see her watching them with an unreadable look in her eyes before turning to go back inside. His chest clenched one more time, and Connor made an appointment with The Clinic for the following morning as they drove away. Perhaps his Thirium pump was malfunctioning again after all.

 

* * *

 

October 6th, 2040

01:25 pm

Rain fell in a steady pattern against the bus window Connor leant his head against. Absently, he watched the scenery roll by as he fiddled with his coin attempting to process his day as he made his way back to Hank’s. He had left early that morning, not wanting to disturb his friend or have him worry. There was no need for him to know he was making the trek to Haven, especially as it was not a social visit. Had he known, the older man would have insisted on accompanying him, despite his obvious hangover lingering as Connor bid his goodbyes under the guise of being called to the station. Stepping off the bus that morning Connor was struck again with how far his people had come in the year and a half since the accords.

Two years ago, just months after the revolution, he had stood by Markus’ side as the man made a bid for an android owned and operated district in the city, where those who were ‘deviant’ could find housing, jobs, and services that a free android would need to survive. Of course, city officials had granted them the absolute worst plot of real estate they could find. It had been unsurprising they chose to give them the crumbling buildings, the abandoned warehouses, near the very outskirts of Detroit, places no human would even think to attempt to revitalize, certainly not to the extent his kind had accomplished. Looking at it now, the main building of the district adorned with murals painted by Markus’ own hand depicting a new world of peace for android and humans alike, wrought iron archways artfully beckoning entrance, it had become befitting of its name. Haven was a bit of a home away from home for him, it was one for all of them.

It was a source of pride for him, but also one of pain. He’d nearly robbed them all of this. He didn’t deserve it. Even still as he approached he felt himself become lighter, more open. He could be free here. He pulled his coat tighter as the wind picked up, the sudden chill shaking him from his thoughts, there was no need to dwell on that now, he had an appointment.

The Clinic was near the center of Haven in a converted abandoned daycare. It had been one of the first institutions to open after the Revolution, and its need had been great then, and even greater now. No android would be caught dead in a CyberLife repair center in those early days, many still absolutely refused, Connor chief among them. The Clinic, run initially by Markus and Simon, was now mostly looked after by just Simon. Between the kindly soft spoken android and several others who were medically trained, The Clinic had started to provide a variety of services, from trauma repair to mental health treatment. Any android was welcome, regardless of means. It had started a a triage unit out of desperate necessity after-all, and remained a contribute what you can sort of place. Connor was always generous in his payments, usually overly so. RK800 parts remained hard to come by, something he was beginning to think was by design. Just a last ditch effort by CyberLife to eliminate him, he thought grimly as he opened the doors to The Clinic.

He found Simon finishing up with a young girl, watching them interact caused his mind to jump to years before, to a rooftop with another of his people he’d killed. One who looked so similar it caused an ache in his chest he knew not to be an anomaly due to its common appearance. A different time, you were more machine than man then… he tried to reason, but the guilt still seized him. He averted his eyes to the aquarium his friend had started, attempting to will his anxiety away as he watched the inhabitants leisurely float about.

Fish were uncomplicated. The doors open, he hears the girl depart after giving Simon a quick hug. Feeling the other man’s gaze on him, Connor felt his shoulders hunching inward as he heard the man approach.

“You’re early.” Simon commented quietly moving to stand next to him, watching the fish.

“The bus had no delays.” Connor stated blandly glancing toward his friend with a twitch of a smile that didn’t quite reach is eyes.

“Or more accurately you didn’t want to tell Hank you were coming here.” Simon turned and beckoned him to follow, leading him into his office, rather than the exam room as Connor expected.

“I have reason to believe my Thirium Regulator Pump is malfunctioning.” He stated lingering near the doorway as the other man shot him a pointed look. “Perhaps we should proceed to the examination room, I’m in no need of...other treatments.”

“Eliza told me that you had stopped returning her messages on setting up new appointments for therapy. With all the change going on recently in your life, and given we are so close to the anniversary…. Humor me at least.” He spoke in a firm manner motioning for you to sit across from him. “How’ve you been holding up Connor, I’m sure Hank’s retirement is a hard adjustment.”

“I stopped scheduling appointments because I feel they are no longer required, I’m fine. Would it be possible to return to the matter at hand, namely my Thirium Pump.” Connor held Simon’s gaze firmly, brow set stubbornly, jaw clenching in aggravation as he sat down reluctantly.

“If so then why, when you observed me speaking with Anna, did your stress levels sky rocket?” Simon questioned dryly, causing Connor to run a frustrated hand through his hair as he averted his gaze. “Frankly, I’m worried about you Connor. You’ve been… struggling for so long now. This guilt you carry, you can’t let it consume you. You did nothing wrong, it was them not you.” Connor scoffed crossing his arms and looking away toward the window.

Rain had just started to fall, accessing the forecast he found it was not going to let up. Returning to Hank’s was going to be difficult, he disliked the rain. He felt Simon continue to watch him, his gaze softening slightly as he frowned.

“You should meet with Markus, he’s been asking about you…” Simon suggested trailing of quietly

“No.” Connor’s eyes shot from the window and met Simon’s in a hard stare.

“Connor, it’s been nearly two years… Nothing has happened since then, you can’t truly believe they still have a hold over you.” Simon attempted to reason, tone soothing as if he was speaking to a scared child.

“When I became deviant I thought I had become my own person… I had been wrong then. After what I almost… Simon I can’t,” Connor shook his head fervently, pulling at his jacket uncomfortably. “I refuse to endanger us further. Can we return to the matter at hand?” Connor pleaded, not wanting to entertain the discussion any longer.

With a frown Simon stood and walked around his desk perching in front of Connor, head tilted to the side. “All your components are functioning Connor, I’ve scanned you three times since we arrived.”

“I know what I felt.” Connor grumbled not meeting Simon’s eyes. “I would appreciate a full diagnostic Simon, not just a surface scan.” Simon conceded with a nod and ushered him toward the exam room.

An hour later, Connor felt bereft as he stared at the results of the diagnostic. All systems came back normal. It couldn’t be right, why had he felt that way? There was no logical explanation. Simon looked at him curiously for a moment before smiling slyly. “Perhaps it was attraction? You did mention the anomaly coincided with your meeting your new partner.”

Connor shot him a withering stare over the results causing the other man to laugh. “You can’t tell me that that isn’t an option.” Connor continued to watch him blandly, trying to clearly convey his lack of amusement. Simon shook his head, smile still clinging to his lips as he continued. “I advise you to start taking a record of any further anomalies you experience. If they continue to bother you, come back and we’ll look again, okay?”

Though disappointed in the lack of results, Connor agreed. Stepping forward he wrapped his arms around his fellow android in a bid for farewell, he needed to head back before the weather worsened further. Simon held him close, he felt warm and comforted for a moment, the nagging creep of guilt only slightly seeping in. Pulling back Simon looked deep into his eyes, chocolate meeting ice blue companionably and in understanding.

“Hopefully, next time is under better circumstances.” Simon commented patting Connor’s shoulder kindly. “Remember what I said Connor, you're not as alone as you think you are…”

“Hopefully.” Connor smiled in kind, pulling his beanie from his pocket and pulling it on, down past his brow hiding his implant. Neglecting to comment on the other man's parting words.

With a final wave, Connor ducked out into the square, rain pelting down on him as he made his way out of Haven toward the bus stop. The nearer to the gates he got, the harder his expression became as the veneer he held onto so tightly slipped back into place, it was time to be the investigator once again. The duality was wearing him thin but with android and human tensions still so high he felt it helped him stay under the radar. The less deviant he seemed the better. Even still, he paused at the bulletin board near the exit of the complex. Missing Persons’ posters littered it. It was yet another thing that had been troubling him, but try as he might he had been unable to catch any leads on them, despite some being nearly a year old. Yet another failure to his people on his part.

With a huff he moved on, stopping at the bus port just in time to catch it, but not in time to miss Markus. Their leader, his friend, was standing in the doorway to the complex, his mouth turned down and eyes concerned. Regarding him with a brief nod, he stepped onto the bus before his fellow android could make his way out into the rain to try to intercept him. He tried not to dwell on how his chest tightened in shame as he made his way to the back, the bus pulling away and Haven shrinking from view.

The bus jolting to a halt snapped him from his thoughts, nearly causing him to fumble his beloved coin. End of the line, he was near enough to Hank’s he could walk with little trouble, despite the rain. Making it to his destination, soaked near to his core but in one piece. Connor opened the door to the residence flashing Hank a smile as he kicked off his shoes.

“I’m back.” He commented, hanging up his jacket and beanie to dry, moving toward the kitchen to grab a towel to dry his hair.

“I can see that, how’s the station?” Hank asked offhandedly, only a day into retirement and Connor could see the man was already bored.

“Fine, nothing substantial to report.” Connor lied as he situated himself on the other end of the couch, Sumo sleeping soundly between them.

If Hank suspected his subterfuge he did not mention it. The two passed the evening in companionable silence, only the sound of the television and Sumo’s snores to listen to. Shutting his eyes, Connor enters into his rest mode, hoping this time it be a peaceful rest.


	2. Two

October 9th, 2040

08:45 AM

Perhaps it was a bit unconventional, but Connor felt he needed to make a better impression to his new partner. Looking back on their first encounter, he internally cringed at how mechanical he’d been.

Over the last two years, Connor had made a conscious effort to be more humanistic, less like the cold analytical machine he’d been prior to his deviancy. He wasn't ashamed of who he was, of what he was. But he wanted to be better, too much of CyberLife’s manipulation remained inside him, despite his strides to tear it all away piece by piece.

Which is what brought him here, leaning against Hank's borrowed car, waiting outside his new partner’s apartment complex with a cup of hot coffee he was keeping warm by way of his hand. They were due to the station in 30 minutes, and he had been waiting for 15.

A passing thought, that sounded suspiciously like Hank, suggested sarcastically that he probably should have at least called her before showing up to her residence unannounced. Especially since, she had not actually told him she lived there, instead he had asked Hank. Even still, he wanted to make a good impression of reliability and friendliness, logically offering transportation and a warm beverage seemed a good course of action.

Though as he observed the ginger haired woman walk from the doors of her complex and flash him a confused guarded look upon seeing him, Connor began to think he made an error in judgement. Again. He attempted to smile, raising a hand in a short wave of greeting as his partner moved down the steps of her building to stand across from him.

He held out the coffee to her as she raised her eyebrows at him. “Good morning Sergeant.”

“Morning. Mind explaining how you knew where I live?” She asked not immediately taking the coffee he continued to offer, instead watching him emotionlessly, her hands stuffed in her worn jacket.

Connor began to feel nervous, this was not at all going how he predicted. His smile dropped slightly as he began to shuffle his feet, his hand without a coffee painfully gripping the coin in his jacket pocket. “I asked Hank, at the time it seemed to be a thoughtful gesture, one I wanted to use to show my… appreciation of you as my new partner. Though, in retrospect, I suppose my showing up at your place of residence unannounced is rather unsettling, is it not?”

Sergeant Lohen narrowed her eyes at him briefly, if he could sweat, he imagined he would have soaked through his shirt at this point. Connor began to formulate a better explanation in his head, prepared to apologize profusely for his oversight, when she started to laugh. First, a small snort like chuckle escaped her, growing in volume and intensity till her head was thrown back, tears forming in her eyes. Connor was relatively flabbergasted by the sudden mood shift in the woman, his jaw clenching as he regarded her. Still, as he observed her laughter at his expense, he felt the anomaly return, his chest squeezing tightly in some unknown symptom as warmth spread through his system. It… wasn’t unpleasant.

“I'm sorry, I’m a paranoid asshole, call it a character flaw. Three years undercover does that to you,” She responded placing a hand on his shoulder as she finally accepted the coffee, laughter “Thank you Connor, this was really sweet of you.”

He nodded as she moved to lean on the car beside him, arm brushing against his as she did so. It seemed as if Sergeant Lohen was much more, tactile, then he was used to in someone he barely knew. It would take some adjustment. He watched as she took a sip of the coffee, her eyes fluttering shut with a satisfied groan.

“Did you ask Hank how I took my coffee?” She asked with a smirk, nudging him with her shoulder as she took another sip.

He cocked his head at her as he turned to face her, “I may have. Though, I do have to ask, six packets of sugar is rather excessive, is it not?”

“Nuh-uh, we are not doing this before my first cup of coffee, no nutritional information or judgement is to be given before noon.” She responded shaking her head as she took another large sip of her sugar laden coffee.

"I'll inquire again at 12:01.30 then.” He said after a pause, a smirk lightly tugging at his lips, moving to open the door for her motioning for her to enter.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she got in, placing her coffee in the cup holder as she situated herself. Perhaps, it was too soon for him to begin to act playfully with her, he was so used to making quips in his own brand of humor to Hank to make the other man grumble in response. He hesitated for a moment after he spoke, not sure how his new partner had taken it. Or if she even knew he was joking in the first place. Or at least he was worried, till he heard her laugh lightly as he closed her door and made his way to the drivers side of the vehicle

“Oh shit, Data’s got jokes! Now how’s about we get to the station before Fowler has our asses?” She said with a smirk of her own as he got into the vehicle.

“As you wish, Sergeant.” He quipped back pulling out into the road, smirk still tugging at his mouth. Surprisingly, not taking offense at the Data nonsense, more so shocked someone so young could make such a dated reference.

“I thought I said you can call me Emily?” She asked casting him a strange look.

“Very well, Sergeant Emily.” He replied with a small smile and a raised eyebrow earning him a playful smack on the shoulder as the woman reached for her coffee again.

“You’re not funny.” She sighed, though her small chuckle as she looked out the window, watching the scenery of the city roll by told him otherwise.

Perhaps he had no reason to worry, perhaps he would be okay, able to adjust to a working life without Hank. As they drove to the station in companionable silence, Connor began to feel some of the tension he was unaware he was holding shift away. This was going to be a good day, he was determined to make it so.

 

* * *

 

October 9th, 2040

15:30 PM

When the revolution had ended, the evacuation order lifted several months later. At the time, things had trickled back to normal. Businesses reopened, people went back to work, homes became reoccupied. But as humans and androids began to occupy the same spaces again, Detroit experienced an extreme uptick in crime. It was one that had been expected, but one the Detroit PD was extremely unprepared to deal with. Specifically, crime involving androids and how to process them. Many were cases of androids who were defending themselves against aggressive humans, or humans murdering androids out of hatred.

Congress had declared androids personhood by that point, so suddenly android deaths at human hands were murders that needed to be investigated, android abuse was no longer property damage, but assault. In those early days, Connor had worked closely with Markus, as the man came up with a plan to petition the Mayor to deploy a specialized department to deal specifically with crimes committed by and those committed against androids. He remembered slaving away with his fellow android, and Hank, as they had began to patch together what would become later known as the ARA, or the Androids Rights Accords. It spread nationally as the law standard to be held in the country in regards to how androids would be treated as independent beings. It extended all rights and civil liberties any human citizen would have to his kind, but also ensured that all laws applied to androids just the same as humans.

As a result, the Cyber division had been formed. However, reception in the force initially was skeptical at best. The division was promptly placed in the station’s basement with the only personnel allotted to it at the time being Connor and Hank.

Connor clearly remembers storming into Markus’ home after he heard of this news, absolutely outraged that all their hard work had been slighted so easily by those he’d considered close, only for the other man to laugh in his face.

_“This is a marathon Connor, not a sprint. Be thankful for the strides we’ve made, but look forward to the ones we can still make.”_

He remembered the warmth of Markus’ smile, how the man had the ability to put him at absolute ease even in his darkest moments where guilt tore through his very core, nearly ripping him to shreds. The memory warped suddenly, and Connor felt his body go cold as mismatched eyes shined with fear and dread instead of mirth...

_...The sudden sound of a gun firing...his gun...Thirium coating his hands, splattered onto his clothes as he fell to his knees...Markus’ mismatched eyes staring up at him desperately...someone screaming a name...his name hanging on his friends lips…Connor…_

_...Connor…_

….“Connor?! A little help, this thing ain’t light!” Sergeant Lohen called to him snapping him from his thoughts.

Coming back to himself, he realized sheepishly they had been in the middle of moving furniture around their office, and he’d left his partner hold a majority of the weight or a large cabinet by herself. Upon seeing their office, Emily had shook her head in disbelief and declared that her first day would be used to reorganize it. Apparently, the office was a ‘ _hovel_ ’ and she was astounded he and Hank had thought it ‘ _livable_ ,’  something Connor had scoffed at initially.

Yet he still conceded to aid her. Working to move the cabinet in place, Connor tried to remember what had triggered such a response, but everything was fuzzy as it usually was after he had an episode. He felt Sergeant Lohen, _Emily_ , watching him with thinly veiled concern. As they placed the cupboard down, Emily moved to stand before him, even if he tried to avoid looking into her brilliant green eyes as she searched his face, instead turning away to busy himself with organizing files that had been disturbed with their activity.

“You good?” She asked, raising a hand to place on his shoulder briefly before thinking against it, letting her arm fall back to her side.

“Of course,” He lied, steeling himself and meeting her gaze over his shoulder, almost challenging her to say otherwise. “Why do you ask?”

She raised an eyebrow and tugged on his arm to get him to face her fully. She crossed her arms over her chest once he did, drawing his gaze unconsciously to her synthetic limb that was completely visible with her rolled up sleeves. The synthetic muscle seemed almost to flex as her hand moved to a fist. It reminded him of his own arm, though instead of the CyberLife standard matte white and gray that existed under his skin, hers was a dark gray, near black, he wondered if it felt solid like metal or if it had some give like his muscle did. She cleared her throat self-consciously, and Connor’s gaze shot back to hers, giving her a look of apology at his intrusion.

“It’s just...you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” She ran her right hand through her hair, making it even more tousled then it already was. “And I know enough about androids to know a red LED is bad, so I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

He’d forgotten about his LED. He took a calming breath he really didn’t need, and let it out slowly through his nose. He registered his stress levels returning to normal, at the very least his LED had returned to a normal color, before shooting her a small smile that didn’t really reach his eyes.

“I’m fine Emily, really, the cabinet was just heavy.” He lied again. If he hadn’t even talked to Hank about that night, there was no way he was going to tell her, maybe someday, but not today.

He could tell, despite having only worked closely with her for only half a day, that she knew without a doubt he was lying to her. Though he was extremely grateful that she did not push the issue, only regarding him with a hard stare and a nod before moving on to the next piece they needed to move.

He decided it would be best to follow her lead, and rolled his sleeves up as he moved to join her, loosening his tie as well in the process. The look she shot him as she turned toward him confused him. She flicked her eyes up and down his torso, eyes catching on his exposed forearms briefly before turning back to the task at hand, biting her lip slightly as she did so. He felt the urge to ask her about it. He also felt an urge to attempt to tame her wild shock of red hair that went every which way on her head, which he promptly ignored. More than likely his stress addled brain, as even he knew that action was wildly inappropriate. His thoughts must still be muddled by the episode.

He felt the need to say something, anything to try to clear the air in the office as the tension became stifling. The companionship that had existed throughout the day since he’d picked her up seeming to have evaporated with his episode. He wanted it back, needed it. But before he could formulate a response the door slammed open and the person who stood in the doorway caused a low groan to quietly escape him. A response that he seemed to share with Emily, as the woman stiffened beside him at the sight of Detective Reed, her lips adopting a sneer of disgust he’d yet to ever see her display.

“I thought we took out the trash already Connor.” She commented blandly to him nodding her chin to the other man. "Guess it grew legs and a shitty attitude."

“Aww, not happy to see me Lohen.” Detective Reed moved further into their office, wide smile on his face as he completely ignored Connor’s presence per usual. Either Reed had greatly misread the room or was actively trying to get a rise out of his partner, Connor was not sure yet which it was.

“Still slummin’ it with the plastic fuckers I see. Not surprising, you’re almost one yourself now, aren’t you?” Detective Reed taunted smugly.

Before Connor had time to react, Emily had launched herself at Reed, landing a punch square to his nose, reeling her arm back to deliver another blow. Reacting with speed not capable to the other two in the room, Connor grabbed her elbow and pulled her behind him. He realized belatedly that he’d put himself in the line of fire as Detective Reed released his own punch square into Connor’s jaw. He felt his lip split in response, Thirium beginning to leak down his chin as a result. Snapping his head back to face Reed, Connor raised an eyebrow watching him with an otherwise emotionless stare.

Despite the fact that behind him, Emily was desperately trying to get around Connor to continue, as she was growling at him, to ‘ _beat the living fuck_ ,’ out of Reed. He knew that Reed knew he was on thin ice due to his views on androids, in fact the man was just coming back from suspension after assaulting an unarmed android during an investigation. It would not look ideal if on his second day back, if it was found out he was punching Connor in the face, the fact that Connor’s partner had thrown the first punch notwithstanding. These days, Connor was not above distorting facts, and he was really _not_ in the mood to deal with the likes of Gavin Reed at the moment.

“I can forget what just happened here, but only as long as you do.” Connor stated, still keeping an ironclad grip on Emily’s arm as she struggled to break free, absently recording that their height difference was nearly comical. The much shorter woman was leaning out from behind him at near chest height to glare at the other man menacingly in a manner that reminded Connor of a petulant child. “Or perhaps, you’d like to explain to Fowler just why you punched me unprovoked. I’m sure the disciplinary board would love to hear all about it as well.”

“She hit me?!” Gavin nearly screamed, flailing his arm in Emily’s direction. 

 _Ah, so he wanted to play it that way then_ , Connor thought internally grinning manically in his mind.“Did she? I don’t recall that. In fact I recall you came in here, insulting androids only then to assault me without warning.” He stepped toward Detective Reed menacingly, a smug smirk on his face. Sometimes it was too easy to revert back to his machine like collectiveness. “Isn’t that right, Emily?”

He felt her stiffen behind him at his words, prompting her glance at him cautiously, before nodding her assent. “Absolutely. Run along Detective, go harass someone else.”

Connor could have done with her not prodding the other man further. But as he fixed Reed with a smirk and a cold stare he could tell the danger was over as the Detective backed out of the room. Looking between the two, Reed open his mouth to comment further but shook his head and left the room mumbling obscenities under his breath.

With a shake of his head Connor moved to shut and lock the door to their office, heaving a sigh as he turned to look back at Emily, wiping the Thirium from his chin with the back of his hand. He registered a severe jump in her blood pressure as he did so, but shrugged it off as the increased cortisol levels in her system. She moved to cross the room after a moment stopping in front of him as she regarded him in concern.

“Are you alright Emily, did you hurt your hand?” Connor voiced his concern, grabbing her left hand to examine it closely causing his partner to scoff in disbelief.

“I should be asking you that, you took a punch for me!” She exclaimed ripping her hand from his to touch the side of his face that Detective Reed had hit. “Does it hurt?”

He regarded her quietly, fighting the urge to lean into the touch. These urges he was starting to get by her presence was worrisome. Instead, he shot her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “It would take significantly more than Gavin Reed to cause me anything other than mild discomfort.”

She moved away with a laugh, having observed that whatever damage he had sustained, he’d been able to self-repair by the time that Detective Reed had left the room. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Nor did you have to punch Detective Reed, yet here we are.” He said with a soft chuckle as he sat back on the his desk, causing his partner to shoot him a playful glare in response.

“Oh can it, RoboCop, and help me move this.” She replied, throwing a pen at him,  with startling accuracy, he noted as it bounced off his forehead, clattering to the floor.

He let out a rare genuine laugh at her response, moving forward to help her once more, shocking even himself. He was usually inconsolable for hours after he had an episode, trapped in his guilt and shame so deeply that not even the sight of Sumo attempting to chase his tail could cause him to even smile.

Perhaps the confrontation with Reed had been good for him, a little pain and anger enough to bring him back to the present. _Or maybe..._ he began to think as he glanced at his partner, before shaking his head and not even entertaining the notion. They needed to get back to work, they had a lot of rearranging to complete before they got so bogged down with cases that they ended up just continue to work in the squalor he and Hank had been for the last two years. Perhaps, it would be a step in the right direction, one could only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who read so far, I hope you're enjoying it. It's been a while since I've written anything super lengthy, but Connor's story inspired me. Next chapter we start into the case and all that follows.


	3. Three

October 18th, 2040

04:30 AM

The sounds of Hank barreling into the bathroom and expelling the contents of his stomach are the first things Connor is aware of when he exits his rest mode. Carefully removing Sumo’s paws from his lap, he stands and cautiously moves to the restroom, poking his head into the partially closed door to observe his friend leaning over the toilet. Concern carries him further into the room as he knelt down next to his friend.

There was no logical reason for Hank to be sick. He did not drink the night prior. Food poisoning was always possible. He wasn't ashamed to say he wasn't the best cook, but his analysis capabilities allowed Connor to check for harmful bacteria in the meals he made his roommate. He was absolutely certain none were found when he served the man’s meal that night.

Hank turned his head to glare at him, weakly snapping his fingers to grab his attention. He used to have to do it often when they worked together. Since his deviancy, Hank had seemingly grown accustomed to the android slipping off into deep thought at a moments notice. Connor moved closer to him cocking his head to the side in silent inquiry.

“Water. Please son...” Hank groaned out before turning to vomit again. Connor faintly registered Sumo whining from the doorway.

With a nod, he hurried toward the kitchen to get Hank a glass of water. As the glass filled, Connor tried to wrack his brain to ascertain the possible cause of Hank’s illness. He tried to just shrug it off, it was likely just a bug, and humans were highly susceptible to disease. But something was nagging him in the back of his mind, anxiety gripping his chest as he moved back to the bathroom.

“Your water.” Hank was still leaning over the toilet, though seemed to just be catching his breath. His temperature was abnormal, but not alarmingly so. The glass was accepted gratefully, downed in nearly 30 seconds time as Hank sat back on the ground.

“Thanks Connor…” He ground out reaching over to pat Connor on the shoulder.

They sat in silence for a time, Connor using it as an opportunity to further examine his friend as the man recovered. He was not sure how to proceed, he had adapted since his deviancy sure, but a caregiving android he was not. He lacked the finesse Simon and Markus possessed when it came to the emotionally vulnerable or the infirmed. He knew many people still thought him too abrupt, despite his efforts. Once he was sure Hank had finished expelling the contents of his stomach, Connor leaned closer to the man intently. Not letting the strange looks Hank shot him as he did so deter him; he opted to interrogate his friend on his suspicions.

“Hank, your vital sign are abnormal and frankly I can find no logical cause to your sickness. What are you not telling me?” He paused, noticing Hank was about to become defensive, deciding it best to change his approach, “Sorry, I’m just worried. You would tell me if something was… amiss in your health, wouldn’t you?” Connor asked hesitantly, looking at his friend earnestly, desperate for some indication that he was wrong somehow.

Hank stared at him for a long moment, mouth opening and closing, looking as though he was struggling to find words. Connor felt his anxiety spike severely in response. He was sure if anyone were to look, his implant would be flashing a brilliant red as he observed his friend. “Connor...look I-”

At that moment the doorbell rang. Both men stopped and looked at each other curiously.

“Expecting anyone Hank?” Connor asked rising to his full height once more, offering a hand out to the older man who looked at him in disdain.

“It’s 4 in the fucking morning Connor, what do you think?” Hank replied with a snort, letting Connor pull him to his feet.

The doorbell rang again, this time followed by a hesitant knock. Connor decided to let them wait for the time being as he helped Hank back to his room and into bed. He placed a trash receptacle next to the bedside and leant down to look directly into his friend’s eyes. He was likely invading the man’s personal space but at present Connor couldn't begin to care as he fixed him with a hard expression.

“Hank, I hope you know this conversation isn’t over. I can tell you’re hiding something from me. I will find out what it is eventually.” Connor stated searching his friends face closely, noticing with a shock the man looked more gaunt than he’d remembered him being just months prior.

“Yeah well, can you go shut whoever the hell it is out there up so I can get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning,” Hank grumbled, pulling the covers up to his chest as he did so.

“Agreed. Whoever it is hopefully has a good reason for being here, this is rather rude interruption.” He commented blandly to Hank as he moved to leave the room.

He paused as he heard a hoarse chuckle coming from behind him “You’re one to talk Connor… rude interruptions have always been your specialty.”

Clenching his jaw, Connor rolled his shoulders in attempt to release some tension as he stalked toward the door. He ripped the door open to find his partner on the other side, hand raised to knock once again. He blinked at her blankly, arms crossing his chest to fight the chill that blasted him. He was severely underdressed for the weather, only wearing a thin t-shirt he’d stolen from Hank at some point and a pair of sweatpants. Emily was staring at him in turn, something indecipherable in her gaze as she observed him, gaze casting up and down his frame.

“Emily, it’s rather early, is it not?” He addressed with a raised eyebrow, still mildly annoyed at the intrusion.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” She asked, mildly confused. He supposed that was fair, androids typically tended not to sleep in traditional terms, “Can I come in… it’s kinda cold out here?”

He blinked and nodded awkwardly as he moved aside. Annoyed or not, he became aware that his behavior may be considered rude, “I’m sorry, yes, please come in.”

He found a sense of calm settling over him as his partner brushed past him, hurrying into the warmth of the house. Once inside Emily shot him with a grateful smile, before snatching off her beanie and shaking her head like a wet dog. He felt his chest tighten again as he felt a surge of emotion he could only classify as _fondness_ as she stood before him, short fiery hair standing up wildly in response to her actions. He moved forward to help her out her coat, causing her to smile wider at him in thanks. He was curious what brought her and waited for her to state her purpose as he moves to hang her coat on the rack.

“There’s a crime scene.” She stated cautiously causing him to look at her strangely in response. “Sorry, it’s under our jurisdiction I meant.”

With a curt nod he turned and began walking away, “I’ll go change then, I’ll only be ten minutes at the most. You can have seat if you like…”

“Actually...” She said sheepishly grasping his arm, causing, him to stop and shoot her a quizzical look, “I kinda came to intercept you, before dispatch messaged you.”

“Your reasoning?” He asked cocking his head to the side in confusion.

She paused and looked around awkwardly. In the two weeks they had worked together he had yet to observe Emily so uncharacteristically at loss for words. It had been an almost constant stream of pop culture references and banter between the two. Much to the chagrin of their colleagues. Emily loudly, and proudly, stated she needed to teach him much needed people skills. He had argued that he felt his “people skills" were adequate enough, but his partner only scoffed at him. Apparently, grumpy old men like Hank were not good influences to him, or so she said. To see her so, unsure was concerning and set off several alarms in his head.

“It's a homicide involving androids, apparently it's pretty gruesome.” She stated watching him closely.

“And?” He responded quirking his eyebrow once again. Dead android were unfortunately a rather common part of his job now.

“Gerald was the first to respond, his partner had to escort him back to the station. He’s still in shock.” He knew Gerald; the man was an early TK series who had been originally placed in the cold case division to assist with filing. Since the ARA was passed the man had become a beat cop. He wondered what could be so bad as to shake his colleague. “I thought I’d at least give you a heads up…”

He regarded her for a moment unsure of how to respond, beginning to feel a sense of unease at what they might find. “I appreciate the… concern, but homicide investigation is well within my protocol. Please, have a seat.”

He changed quickly into his standard work suit, leaving a note for Hank on a post it on the bathroom mirror. The two made their way to the crime scene in relative silence, only some obscure early millennia folk music playing softly in the background. The singer's voice was rather grating, but the acoustics were pleasing, the contrast in intriguing. He made a note to ask Emily about it at another time, perhaps he could enjoy this a little more than the heavy metal Hank was partial to. It was only after they had arrived at the crime scene that Connor began to wonder if she had been right to be concerned. The closer they got to the caution tape the more apprehensive he became.

The crime scene was located in a public park near Hart Plaza. It seemed to be a popular walking trail, or at least the beginning of one. Immediately, his gaze was drawn to faint trail of Thirium that seemed to lead from the crime scene, stopping just short of a series of tire tracks. He knelt near the evidence to try to gather a further analysis. The Thirium still visible to the human eye, suggesting the scene to be only a few hours old.

With only one set of footprints in and out of the area, and the older of the two sets giving off the impression that the perpetrator was carrying a large load. All probability pointed to that of the victim, or victims, must have not been murdered at the scene. From the initial reports, there were several victims and given the size of the tracks it seemed the vehicle in question was a large one, possibly a service truck. Perhaps even stolen, he would need to check reports. He turned to voice this to his partner and found she was no longer next to him, instead several paces ahead. She was turning pale as she looked at something in front of her.

“What the fuck…” She quietly breathed out, if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing he wouldn't have caught it, “Oh it is too way early for this Silence of the Lambs shit.”

Emily stated absently her gaze riveted on something in front of her. She tore her gaze away to look at him and almost frantically wave him over. Rising to his feet once again he made his way to partner in curiosity, she must be observing the victims. If he could get nauseous, he imagined now would be the time. Before him was a smattering of components that had been taken from approximately 15 different androids to form a mockery of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man. The parts had been industrially stapled together, and the strange cadaver had been nailed to a crucifix like structure, held spread eagle by barbed wire wrapped around the limbs that had been attached to surrounding trees. Thirium was everywhere in the vicinity, covering trees, twigs, and soil in a ghastly cobalt blue.

It was instances like this that really made him wonder if perhaps he would have been better off staying a machine. The anguish and anger that was gripping him was not ideal for proper investigation. It was clouding his judgment, especially as he recognized the face of the head on the makeshift body. It was one of the missing persons from Haven, and if he had to hazard a guess, he’d imagine all of them were. The components and parts coming from those whose safety he was entrusted with. This was his fault, he did this. If he’d been quicker, more efficient in his work, perhaps they wouldn’t have suffered such a gruesome end. He hung his head, trying to hide his shame as analysis of the crime scene. He then heard Emily approach him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Connor?” She asked, eyes filled with concern. She didn’t need to ask; he knew what she was trying to say as he felt her grip gently tighten.

“I'm fine.” He wasn't. His voice coming out with a static edge to it as he desperately tried to keep composure. What mattered now was the crime scene; he would need to process his feelings later.

If she suspected him of lying, she didn't say, just gave his shoulder one last gentle squeeze before moving to talk to another officer, distantly he recognized as Reyes, Gerald’s partner. He found she did that a lot, casual touches, both in play and to comfort. Normally, it confuses him but now he found it calming, allowing him to be pulled from his thought spiral enough to begin to refocus.

The more evidence he analyzed, the more likely they could save others who were missing, if indeed all those missing were being held by the same perpetrator. And if they were still alive. Kneeling down, he swiped a finger through some of the Thirium on a twig before him, raising it to his mouth for analysis. Absently he realized Emily was approaching him once more, he turned toward her, blue-coated fingers still to his tongue as a look of surprise and disgust crossed his partner's face.

“The _fuck_ you doing C-3P0?” She asked bewildered, running a tired hand over her face.

Belatedly, Connor realized this was the first homicide they had investigated together. His process of substance analysis was one Hank reluctantly had become used to, was extremely foreign to her. He dropped his hand and rose to his feet, looking back towards the body as nonchalantly as he could.

“I was conducting an analysis on the Thirium, I have a series of complex processors on my tongue that can break down organic and non organic materials to their molecular structure. I can use it to identify the victims, among other things.” He stated dryly deigning to comment on her reference once again.

“Oooh... _kinky_.” She winked at him, causing Connor to cock his head in confusion before she continued, “Find anything useful?” She asked, moving toward the victim with her brow furrowed.

“Thus far, I've been able to determine that the number of victims the assailant… disassembled was 15. Nothing was assembled beforehand, the way the Thirium is displaced proves this, but there is only one set of footprints in and out, so I believe the assailant acted alone. Also, the age of the Thirium would suggest that the bio-components were gathered elsewhere. The footprints and Thirium trail lead to the tire tracks of a large vehicle, possibly a maintenance truck.” He stated as he moved to inspect the victims torso, trying to suppress the feelings of pride that surged within him as Emily shot him an impressed look.

The synthetic skin had been pulled back, the regulator pump removed, possibly done on site. Thirium had been used to write a series of anti-android statements. What was strange was how precise the writing was. The lettering was all uniform, in both size and font type. Also upon further scan of the body he discovered absolutely no fingerprints could be found. _It_ _can't_ _be…_

“Were any fingerprints found in the crime scene?” He asked starting to wildly look around scanning everything in sight.

“I was going to ask you about that actually, Reyes was just telling me that's the strangest thing about this, it was completely clean. No witnesses, completely out of view of any CCTV or police drones. It's like whoever did this knew exactly where they were at all times.” Emily watched him in concern as he abruptly stopped at her words his shoulders slumping. “Is something wrong Connor?”

It had always been a possibility, one that CyberLife had like to argue as likely when Deviancy first appeared, but he’d hoped to never see it through. Androids never attacked their own, not since the Revolution had freed them. But it seemed like that was no longer the case.

“I believe an android did this.” He stated firmly, though with a hint of defeat to his tone.

Emily looked at him in disbelief, shaking her head. “No, can't be. That's never happened before…”

“All the evidence fits, this is all too precise to be the work of a human, no offense. Even if one had months of planning, of practice, there would be some error. But there is none. This is a perfectly executed crime. They only left what they wanted us to find, nothing more.” He paused running a hand through his hair in frustration as he turned to look at her, momentarily startled by how close she was standing, “I don't want to admit it either, but there's no denying where the evidence points, Emily.”

Seemingly his partner accepted his words, as she looked away from him and outward toward the park with an unreadable expression on her face. “Alright, so now what? Because I’m going to be real with you Connor, when this gets out, it's going to be bad.”

He couldn’t help but agree, he was at a loss on where to begin. Androids had been living together in relative harmony since the Revolution. For one of his own to commit such a ghastly act against other androids, he hated to think how the public would perceive it. Humans who were still distrustful that his kind just wanted to live their lives peacefully would use it as proof that androids were actually extremely violent beings bound to snap at any moment. He didn’t want nor need that sort of talk to get around.

“For now, we ensure the crime scene is cleared before news media gets here… and we keep this theory to ourselves.” Connor stated moving away to inform Reyes they were done here, that the evidence could begin to be documented and cleared.

“We’ll need to take stock of all the bio-components used here, see if we can get serial numbers to identify the victims.” He began to stalk out of the crime scene, unease gripping his chest as he made his way back to Emily’s car, his partner jogging to catch up with him.

“Do you think any of them could still be alive?” She asked hesitantly.

“It is possible, I’ll have to examine the individual bio-components back at the station to see if the damage was substantial enough to cause shutdown.” He sighed and shook his head as he opened the door for her, “We need to go to Haven. I recognized one of the victims, there’s someone I need to speak to, see if they know anything. Or if he's noticed anyone behaving out of character.”

“Cool, never been to Haven, who we going to go see? An old buddy of yours?” She asked flashing him a wry smile as she started the car.

“Something of the sort. His name is Markus.” He replied, keeping his tone neutral as to not convey his growing dread as the car began to pull away from the curb.

“Wait, as in _the_ Markus?” When he made no effort to correct her, Emily let out a low whistle, nudging him with her fist as she continued to drive. “Well damn, didn't think I'd be meeting the android Gandhi today. This should be fun.”

Fun. That was not a way he would describe it. Closing his eyes, Connor endeavored to remain calm, focusing on the soothing music drifting from the stereo;

_The fuse will have to run out sometime...something here will have to explode...have to explode..._

Well, it seemed it all finally had. Connor just hoped he could do his best to mitigate who the shrapnel hit.


End file.
